Who Are You? Wait, Who Am I?
by Jaddis
Summary: Michelangelo gets amnesia after Raphael loses his temper. Even though he gets most of his memories back, Mikey doesn't remember who Raph is. How do you get someone to remember you when all they can recall are the bad memories?
1. Chapter 1

Who Are You? Wait, Who Am I?

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**Disclaimer: I don't own the turtles and I never will. Happy now?**

**My very first Ninja Turtle story. Let me know if if I got everyone in character. Splinter is really hard to write. But don't flame. I'll just use them to burn my textbooks when I graduate this spring.**

It was just another day in New York City. Hundreds of people hurried to work among the usual bustle of cabs making their way through the crowded streets. There was only one place in New York City that was completely silent. Deep within the sewers, a lone figure was waiting in a dimly lit room like he had been doing for days. The scene was rather melancholy but also unusual, considering the figure was a giant terrapin.

Raphael shifted, trying to get more comfortable on the cold, metal chair. His gaze never lifted from his little brother, Michelangelo, who was lying beside him, still as death. The silence had never seemed so heavy to Raphael. It almost felt as if it were suffocating him. Life had never been easy for Raphael and his brothers, but at least they had always had Michelangelo around to lift their spirits. It felt so unnatural to see his little brother looking so pale and weak instead of running around the lair while high on sugar.

Raphael sighed and covered his face with a green,three-fingered hand. This was all his fault. If he had only kept his temper in check, then none of this would have happened. Despite himself, Raphael couldn't help but think back to that morning when everything went so wrong. Raphael growled and pressed his palms into his closed eyes, hoping that the bright lights would block out the images in his head. _Michelangelo laughing as he dodged Raphael's attack. Raphael snarling as he slammed his brother into the nearest wall. The sharp cracks as Michelangelo's head bounced repeatedly against the brick wall. The blood dripping down as his little brother fell limply to the ground._

Unable to take the flashbacks anymore, Raphael quickly jumped up and paced around the room. Normally he would take his frustration out on a punching bag, but he didn't really want to see his older brothers, nor did they probably want to see him. He couldn't remember ever seeing Leonardo and Donatello so angry. Raphael still felt a rush of shame as he recalled the look of disappointment in Splinter's eyes. After a moment, Raphael sat down again and placed a hand gently on Michelangelo's bandaged forehead.

_Please wake up, bro, _Raphael thought, _I need ya. We all do._ Michelangelo didn't respond, and Raphael remembered Don saying that he might have a concussion. Raphael pulled the blanket up to Michelangelo's chin, then he laid his head on his plastron and started to cry.

Meanwhile, Leonardo was meditating in the training room, trying to clear his mind of the last few days. It wasn't working. Leo felt anger rush through him as he thought about his hot-headed brother. He thought Raphael had learned his lesson after he nearly caved Michelangelo's head in with a steel pipe. Leo knew Raphael felt terrible and he had stayed by Mikey's side constantly, but this time he had gone too far.

Leo didn't really want to see Raphael right now, but he felt a sudden urge to check on his youngest brother. Unsurprisingly, Raphael was still sitting by Mikey. Leo was shocked to hear sobs come from his brother, who never cried about anything. Raphael didn't look up as Leo approached him, but he stiffened when he felt a hand on his shoulder. Even though Leo was still angry at Raphael, he knew his brother needed him right now.

Raphael finally looked up, his red mask now damp with tears. "I'm so sorry. I never meant ta-I never wanted....I'm sorry," he whispered. Leo couldn't help but feel sorry for Raphael, who had never looked more vulnerable.

"I know you are," Leonardo said softly, "but it doesn't change what happened."

"I wouldn't blame 'em if he hated me," Raphael muttered, "if-I mean when-he wakes up."

"He will," Leo said firmly, "It's only been six days. And anyway, Mikey could never hate you."

"That knucklehead could never stay mad at anyone," Raphael let out a watery chuckle. "I just wish he would wake up so I could tell 'em-"

Raphael was cut off as a soft moan filled the air. Leo and Raphael looked at their little brother in disbelief.

"Mikey?" Raphael said softly, "You awake, bro? Come on."

Michelangelo moaned again, his eyelids fluttering as he shifted slightly.

"He's wakin' up," Raphael said, hardly daring to believe it.

"Master Splinter! Don! Mikey's waking up!" Leo yelled, barely able to contain his excitement. A moment later, Don ran into the room with Splinter right behind him. Don started checking Michelangelo's pulse, while the rest of the family waited anxiously for their youngest to wake up.

"Michelangelo," Splinter said, placing a furry hand on his son's forehead, "It is time to wake up. Your family is waiting for you."

Mikey let out a tiny sigh, and then he slowly opened his eyes. He blinked and looked around, his gaze finally falling on his family.

"Mikey," Donatello said, going into full 'medical mode', "How are you feeling? Does your head hurt at all?" Michelangelo didn't answer, and Leo thought he looked rather confused.

"What's wrong with 'em?" Raphael said, trying to hide his concern, "Why ain't he sayin' anything?"

"Mikey?" Leo said, his mouth turning dry, "Are you okay? Say something." His relief at seeing his brother awake was quickly turning into fear. What if there was something seriously wrong with Mikey? Finally, Michelangelo sat up, still gazing silently at everyone. There was something unsettling about the way he was staring at them. Leo glanced at Splinter, who looked concerned.

"Michelangelo," Master Splinter said, "My son-"

"Who are you?" Mikey asked blankly.

**Tune in next time. I already got most of the next chapter written. This story should only be about four or five chapters long, but who knows?**


	2. Chapter 2

Who are You? Wait, Who Am I?

**Disclaimer: Look at previous chapter.**

**Another update! Usually I don't update this quickly, but thank goodness for spring break!**

A heavy silence filled the air as they heard Mikey say those three little words. Leo could hear his heart pounding in his head, and it was suddenly hard to swallow. It's a joke, Leo told himself. Any moment Mikey's going to jump up and yell, "Gotcha!" But Mikey continued to stare at them, his face showing no recognition at all.

"Amnesia," Donatello said, "It should only be temporary."_ At least I hope so._ Leo could see the unspoken words behind his brother's eyes.

"Why am I green?" Mikey asked, examining his hands as if he were a blind man who had just gotten his sight back. "Why do I have only three fingers?" Mikey, still looking utterly confused, turned to Don. "Hey, Mr. Turtle," he said, "Where are we? Who are you?" Michelangelo looked thoughtful, which was rare for him, "Wait, who am I?"

Normally, Leo and Raphael would be snickering over the fact that Mikey had just called Don 'Mr. Turtle', but now it suddenly occurred to them that their little brother really had no idea who they were.

"Will you stop looking at me like that?" Mikey asked nervously, "It's kind of freaking me out." Leo, Raphael, and even Master Splinter looked at Don as if he could magically find a solution. Little did they know, Don was just as lost as they were.

"Mikey-" Don started to say.

"Is that my name?" Mikey interrupted, "Because I think I like Felix better."

"We're your brothers, Mikey," Don said, "And this is our father, Master Splinter." He gestured toward their teacher and adoptive father.

"He looks nothing like the rest of you," Mikey said, "What kind of a name is Splinter? He looks more like a Fred to me."

Normally, Mikey would have gotten a smack on the head from Splinter's cane, but now Splinter just stared solemnly at his youngest son.

"Michelangelo, I am your father," he said, "and these are your brothers: Leonardo, Raphael, and Donatello."

"What's with all the weird names?" Michelangelo asked incredulously. "Haven't you heard of more normal names like Tom?" Mikey's face lit up like it did when he usually had an outrageous idea. "You know, you're all wearing different colors. I'll just call you by your colors, much easier."

Michelangelo threw the blankets over him aside and tried to stand up, but Donatello immediately stopped him.

"You don't need to stand up, Mikey," he said, trying to push Michelangelo back down. "You could have a serious head injury."

Mikey reached up and touched the bandages on his head. "That explains why my head feels so funny." he said, "Anyway, Purple, I'm fine." Before Don could do anything, Mikey jumped to his feet, grinning madly. He was still grinning when he suddenly toppled over on his back.

"Mikey!" Raphael finally spoke up as he helped his little brother stand up. "You okay, bro?"

"Yeah," Mikey said, "What's on my back?" He tried to see behind him, but only succeeded in spinning around in a circle, "It weights a ton."

"That's your shell," Don said, shaking his head.

"Oh, right," Mikey said, slapping his head with his palm, "Duh, I'm a turtle. I guess that also makes me Mr. Turtle." Mikey burst out laughing, holding on to Raphael for support. Raphael looked anxious, as if he were afraid to be near Mikey. However, Leo wasn't sure if anyone else noticed. Either way, it was going to be a long day.

Hours later, the three brothers had finally gotten Mikey to stop referring to Splinter as 'Fred'. However, Mikey insisted on calling his brothers by the colors of their bandanas no matter how many times he was told their names. They had given Mikey a tour of the lair to try to get him to remember anything. Now he was watching Spongebob, while the rest of the family had a meeting in the training room.

"How long is he going to be like this, Don?" Leo asked.

"I'm not entirely sure," Don replied, "It could for a few days or a few weeks. I could ask April if she knows anything that could help Mikey get his memory back."

"The only thing we can do now is to act as we normally do," Splinter said, who was sitting in front of his kneeling sons.

Donatello nodded, "It might help if we go about our daily lives. Except this time Raphael can't attempt to murder Mikey." He glared at Raphael, who shrank from the anger in his older brother's eyes. Leo was shocked by Don's behavior. Out of all his brothers, Leo never had to worry about Don getting into trouble. He always knew how to stay calm and collected, no matter what happened.

"Raphael didn't try to kill Mikey," Leo said, not sure why he was standing up for Raphael.

"Try to tell that to our little brother," Don snorted bitterly, "Wait, you can't, because he doesn't know who we are."

"Ya don't have ta rub it in, Don," Raphael said angrily, "I feel bad enough as zit is."

"You sure didn't do anything to help him," Don said roughly, "If I remember correctly, you just sat in here while the rest of us tried to save Mikey's life."

Raphael jumped to his feet, trying to control the rage welling up inside him. "I'm the one who stayed by his side the whole time," he snarled, "You only came in ta check on Mikey, n' then ya left."

"Maybe it's because I didn't want to see you!" Don yelled. A heavy silence filled the room as Raphael looked down, visibly hurt, and Don continued to glare hatefully at his brother. Just then Mikey walked into the room.

"What's with all the noise? I thought turtles were supposed to be quiet." Mikey snickered at his own joke.

"Mikey," Raphael said, still avoiding eye contact with Don, "Ya need anything? Do ya need me ta show ya where the bathroom is again?"

"Not since the last time you asked me an hour ago," Mikey said. He glanced at his other brothers, not noticing the tension among them. "Is Red here always so helpful? I'm kind of scared he's gonna show me how to use the bathroom."

Leo couldn't help the chuckle that escaped from his throat. He wasn't sure if it was because Mikey had just called Raphael helpful, or if it was from the image of Raphael demonstrating how to use the bathroom. Even Don and Master Splinter were smiling.

"So, Mikey," Raphael said awkwardly, "Have ya remembered anything yet?"

Mikey looked blankly at Raphael, "Oh, yeah," he said suddenly, "I'm Mikey. I still like Felix better."

"I'll take that as a 'no' then," Raphael muttered.

Mikey looked around the room, his eyes locking on to the punching bags and practice dummies. "I trained here," Mikey said slowly, not sounding confident. "We all did. Fr- I mean, Splinter taught us."

"That's right, Mikey!" Donatello beamed as if Mikey had just worked out one of Einstein's equation.

"Yeah," Mikey said, "I have those spinning sausage thingys."

"Numchucks," Leo corrected him.

"There's no need for name-calling, Blue," Mikey said, looking offended. Leo rolled his eyes and sighed. He seemed to be doing that a lot today. "I wanna practice!" Mikey exclaimed, "I want my spinning sausages!"

Raphael snorted, trying desperately to keep from laughing. Splinter looked disapprovingly at Raphael, before turning to Michelangelo.

"I do not think that is a good idea, Michelangelo," he said, "You need to wait until some of your memories return before you attempt training again. However, you can watch your brothers tomorrow morning."

"Okay," Mikey said brightly, "Goodnight, then," Mikey quickly ran out the training room, leaving his bemused family behind.

"I'll get him," Leo said, following after Mikey and leaving Raphael and Don alone with Splinter.

"I am going to watch my stories," Splinter said, "In the meantime, I think you two have some unresolved issues to deal with." He gazed firmly at his sons, who looked down sheepishly. After Splinter left, an awkward silence fell between the two brothers.

"Go on," Raphael said impatiently, "Tell me it's all my fault."

"When will you learn, Raphael?" Don asked tiredly, "Is this ever going to stop? First you give Mikey amnesia. What about next time? Are you going to put him in a coma?"

"I don't know," Raphael sighed, "I keep tellin' myself I can control my temper, but Mikey really knows how ta push my buttons."

"I know you care about Mikey," Don said, "but one day you're going to go too far. I'll forgive you this time, but if you ever hurt Mikey again-"

"If I hurt 'em again, I'll beat myself up, or let Leo do it for me," Raphael said.

"Mikey!" Leo shouted, " It's not nighttime, and that's not your bed!"

**Okay, this is going to be a few more chapters than I thought. I'd like to thank everyone for all the reviews I've gotten so far. In the next chapter, Mikey's going to get some of his memories back, but not necessarily the good ones. I know there's a debate about whether Don or Raph's the oldest. But I've done my research, and according to canon, Don is the oldest. Even though Don is the second oldest, Raph is the strongest, which would explain the tension between him and Leo. And, hey, that's Raph for you.**


	3. Chapter 3

Who are You? Wait, Who Am I?

**Disclaimer: Look at previous chapter.**

**Next chapter! Just remember, R-E-V-I-E-W!**

The next morning Leonardo, Donatello, and Raphael were nervously watching Michelangelo practice his numchucks. After managing to hit himself with his numchucks over a dozen times, Mikey had finally learned how to handle his weapons. Raphael couldn't help but be extremely nervous. Mikey couldn't even use superglue before without gluing his fingers together. Raphael had a feeling that this practice would end in disaster. Truthfully, he still felt uncomfortable being around his little brother.

"Hey, look," Mikey said happily, "I'm doing it!"

"That's great, Mikey," Leo said, "but are you sure you're ready for this?"

"Don't worry, Picasso," Mikey said, "I've got this under control. After this we can meet your friends, Tracey and May."

"Casey and April," Leo corrected him, "We really need to work on our names some more." He muttered to Don, who grinned.

"I'll see what I can do, Picasso," He smirked, playfully nudging Leo with his elbow. Master Splinter entered the room, watching Michelangelo twirl his numchucks.

"My sons, it is time to begin practice," Splinter said, "I think we should start with basic sparring. Leonardo, you pair with Donatello, and Raphael, I want you to pair with Michelangelo."

"What!" Raphael exclaimed, looking at his sensei in disbelief. Didn't he remember what happened the last time they were paired up? Leo and Don also looked uncertain, and if Raphael didn't agree with them, he probably would have punched his older brothers.

"Are you sure that's a good idea, Master Splinter?" Leo said, glancing sideways at Raphael.

"I trust your brother, Leonardo," Splinter said simply, "I know he will not make the same mistake again."

"Maybe he's right, Sensei," Raphael said, "Maybe I shouldn't train with Mikey."

"Can we start practice now?" Mikey said, who had not been listening to their conversation.

Raphael looked at his sensei for a moment, before turning to Mikey. "Come on, bro," he said reluctantly, "We'll start with something simple."

"Okay," Mikey said, running eagerly to the other side of the room.

Raphael started to feel warm as he slowly followed Mikey. He could feel his brothers' eyes on the back of his head. It's just another practice, Raphael told himself. Nothin' to it. Just another practice with yer whacked-out brother. Raphael sighed. This was going to suck.

Mikey waited impatiently for Red, who was looking rather solemn. Mikey tried to remember what Red's real name was. _There's Picasso. What's another artisty name? Mona Lisa? Yeah, that sounded right. _"What are we gonna do first, Mona?" Mikey asked, ignoring the strange look he received from his brother.

"First of all, it's Raph," his big brother said, "and we'll start hands-on, no weapons. Just show me what cha can remember."

The two brothers faced each other and bowed. Mikey saw his two other brothers and the rat dude watching him. Earlier, they had shown him some simple kicks and punches, and Mikey was ready to see what he could do. Raph halfheartedly threw a punch at Mikey, who easily dodged it. Mikey felt something rush up inside of him. It was all coming back to him. He might not remember his brothers, but he remembered doing the moves and practicing the forms.

Mikey leaped forward and sent a roundhouse kick at Raphael. Normally, Raphael would have counterattacked, but he simply jumped back, waiting for Mikey to make the next move. The two brothers continued like this for the next few minutes. Yet, there was something nagging Mikey at the back of his mind. Something he should remember. Mikey managed to knock Raphael back, causing him to crash to the ground. As Raphael got back to his feet, a small voice echoed in Mikey's head.

"_You think you're better than me? Do you?_"

"_No, You're just too cocky,Raph."_

Throughout the day Mikey had been getting weird flashes of memories. Mikey tried to hold on to them, but the memories seeped away from him like sand running through his fingers. Something about this feeling was different. Suddenly, Mikey's surroundings faded.

"_Winner and still champion,"Mikey said, turning his back on Raphael, "Michelangelo!" He waved his fists in the air in triumph._

_ "No...no....you..you.."_

_ Mikey turned around just as Raphael knocked him down, armed with a metal pipe. _

_ "Ralph,wait," Mikey said, holding his arms up for protection. His older brother had finally lost it. For the first time he could remember, Mikey felt genuine fear toward Raphael. Mikey flinched, waiting for the pain...._

"Mikey!"

"What's happening to him?"

"Michelangelo!"

"Are you okay?"

Mikey opened his eyes and saw his family standing around him, concern on each of their faces. He felt unsteady, as if the world was slipping away from underneath him. Mikey groaned, holding a hand up to his aching head.

"What the-"

"Mikey," Leonardo said, placing a hand on his shoulder, "What happened? You just went blank there for a minute."

Leonardo. That was his oldest brother's name. Splinter was his father and Donatello was also his brother. It was like a bell went off in his head. Just like his flashback had come, Mikey instantly knew who was around him. Mikey stepped back, feeling overwhelmed by all this new information.

"I remember you," Mikey said, "I remember who I am. I'm Michelangelo."

His two brothers looked at him in disbelief before breaking out into grins.

"That's great, Mikey," Don said, looking more relaxed than he had in days. "I figured your memories would return in one spontaneous moment."

"Nice to have ya back, bro," Raphael said, looking relieved. Mikey froze at the sound of his other brother's voice. He remembered Raphael. He remembered how Raphael had tried to bash his head in with a pipe. He remembered the fear that rushed through him when he saw the anger in Raphael's eyes. Mikey unconsciously stepped back, once again seeing his brother attack him. Everyone else looked confused as Mikey backed away from Raphael fearfully. Raphael gazed at Mikey, confusion and hurt on his face.

"Mikey, what's wrong-"

"You attacked me," Mikey said, keeping his eyes on Raphael, who looked shocked. "You...you-the pipe..you attacked me."

Raphael approached Mikey uncertainly, but froze as his little brother edged behind Leo. "I lost my temper, Mikey," he said in a begging tone, "I would never hurt you-"

"You almost did," Mikey whispered, his body tense as he continued to move away from Raphael. "Get away from me!"

Mikey turned and ran out of the training room, the sounds of his door slamming echoing through the lair. Leo, Don, and Splinter, who had been watching silently, now turned to Raphael, who looked as lost as he did when Mikey had been knocked out.

"Raph," Leo said awkwardly.

"Don't, Leo," Raphael said firmly, not quite able to hide the trembling in his voice. Without another word, he walked out of the room. Leo and Don looked at Splinter for advice, but he looked just as speechless as them.

It was only after Raphael left his family's sight did he let the tears fall down. His little brother was afraid of him. Sure, he constantly threatened to kill Mikey several times a day, but to see the fear in his eyes, fear that he had caused...Raphael stopped outside Mikey's door, but then he turned and walked into his room. He collapsed on his hammock and gazed blankly at the ceiling until he fell asleep, his dreams haunted by the sounds of his brother's pleas.


	4. Chapter 4

Who Are You? Wait, Who Am I?

**Disclaimer: Nope, still don't own it.**

**I know it's been awhile, but I finally graduated last Friday! Go to school for 13 years, and all you get is a piece of paper with your name on it. I'm feeling ripped-off. I figured I should get this chapter up before I start my summer college class. Math + Summer = Fun. NOT!**

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Raphael woke up the next morning, wondering why he was feeling so depressed. He slowly rose up and stretched his burly arms. Raphael yawned, roughly rubbing his eyes. He had gotten no sleep last night. His dreams had been filled with images of Mikey screaming in pain as Raphael beat him repeatedly with a metal pipe. He had thought that he had gotten over those dreams. For weeks after that incident, Raphael had had recurring nightmares about what would have happened if Leo hadn't stopped him in time. At first, he had tried to hide the terrible nightmares that plagued him every night.

Soon everyone noticed that Raphael appeared exhausted and that he wouldn't go anywhere near Mikey during training sessions. It got to the point where Raphael completely avoided his little brother. Leo and Don had noticed their brother's unusual behavior, but Splinter told them to let Raphael solve his problems on his own. It was only after Mikey pelted Raphael with paint-filled balloons and Raphael didn't even yell at him that everyone realized that something was seriously wrong. After much persuasion, Splinter had finally gotten Raphael to share his dreams. Raphael reluctantly told his family about how he kept dreaming of himself actually killing Mikey, and how everyone else had shunned him and kicked him out of the lair.

Now the events of the previous day hit Raphael. His little brother was afraid of him. Part of Raphael wanted to just crawl back in his hammock, but another part of him knew it was best to get it over with. Maybe Mikey wouldn't remember any of it. Raphael snorted as he walked out his room. He doubted he would be that lucky. Raphael entered the kitchen and saw that Leo and Don were already eating breakfast. Leo was the first one to notice him standing by the doorway.

"Raph," Leo exclaimed, standing up, "I didn't think you'd be up already after..." He trailed off awkwardly, "You want something to eat?"

Raphael shrugged, "I'll take some cereal." No one said anything as Raphael prepared his breakfast, but he could sense them staring at him. "So where's Mikey?" Raphael asked, trying to act casually as he spooned some Cheerios in his mouth.

"He's with Master Splinter in the training room," Don replied, buttering a piece of toast, "He's hoping meditation will help clear Mikey's mind." Raphael nodded vaguely, pouring some more milk in his bowl. Maybe if he acted like nothing had happened, everyone would just forget about it. Raphael groaned mentally as Leo cleared his throat. _Here comes the speech_, Raphael thought.

"About yesterday-" Leo began.

"Forget about it, Fearless," Raphael said, hoping his brother would get the hint, " He remembers who you are. That's great." He laughed tonelessly, "At least he knows who I am."

Don stood up and gently placed a comforting hand on his brother's shoulder. "It's common for amnesiac victims to have sudden flashbacks triggered by certain sounds or images." He sighed when he saw his brothers staring blankly at him, "In other words, sparring with Raph probably caused Mikey to remember what happened that day."

"How do I get 'em ta remember somethin' good about me?" Raphael asked, pushing his cereal away and resting his head in his hands.

"Just try to be nice to him, and no losing your temper," Don said, a hint of anger slightly traceable in his voice.

"I got it," Raphael sighed, "Trust me, I learned my lesson."

The three turtles looked up as their youngest brother entered the kitchen. "Hey, Ron and Cheeko," he said cheerfully, not noticing Raphael, "What's for breakfast, or is it dinner?"

"Just cereal and toast, since the rest of us can't cook," Don said.

"Cool," Mikey said, pulling his chair back. He froze as he saw Raphael for the first time. Time seemed to freeze as Don and Leo looked nervously at their younger brothers.

"Hey, Mikey," Raphael said, smiling awkwardly at his little brother, "How you doin'?"

Mikey said nothing, but everyone could see the fear growing in his eyes. He gazed fearfully at Raphael for another second before quickly running out the room.

"Raph-" Leo said uncertainly, sadly watching Raphael stare after his little brother with a crushed look on his face. For a moment, it looked as if Raphael would either burst out in tears or start screaming. However, he just stood up silently and left the kitchen.

"Now what?" Leo asked. Don didn't answer.

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For the rest of the day, Mikey refused to go anywhere near Raphael, who was determined to make his little brother trust him again. Leo and Don watched flabbergasted as their normally aggressive brother seemed to turn into the perfect son, offering to do chores and taking orders without any complaints. Despite forgetting their names occasionally, Mikey seemed to have recovered all his memories, easily talking about when he became the Battle Nexus Champion, or the time he used Don's bo staff to unclog the toilet.

However, it soon became obvious that there were gaps in Mikey's memories, and everyone knew who was in those missing pieces. Don said that repressing memories of Raphael was his way of dealing with the trauma, but even he was worried. Other than the pipe incident, Mikey seemed to have no recollection of Raphael. As far as he was concerned, Raphael was out to kill him. It was almost pathetic how desperate Raphael was to get Mikey to remember anything good about him. If Leo didn't know any better, he would have sworn that Raphael had been possessed by another life form.

The irony of it was that before Raphael wanted Mikey to leave him alone, and now he refused to leave his little brother's side. This seemed to convince Mikey farther that Raphael was out to get him, and he became even more afraid of his brother. To his family's surprise, Raphael never lost his temper or even expressed his frustrations, but he could only contain himself for so long.

Splinter had managed to convince Mikey to sit with the rest of them during dinner, but it didn't go unnoticed that he chose the seat furthest away from Raphael. The tension was almost tangible as their pizza was silently eaten.

"That's it!" Raphael shouted, as he slammed his fist on the table, startling everyone, "Come on, Mikey," He said, turning to his little brother, who was watching him nervously, "You've gotta remember me! Sure, I wasn't always nice ta ya, but don't cha remember the good times we had?"

He gazed at his little brother with a desperate pleading in his eyes that no one had ever seen before. Hell had officially frozen over. Leo opened his mouth, but closed it again when Master Splinter gave him a look that clearly said, _Let your brothers deal with this on their own. _

"I'm not hungry anymore," Mikey mumbled, quickly leaving the room.

"Raph, wait-" Leo said, as Raphael started to run after his little brother.

"No, Leo," Raphael said, turning around at the doorway, "This ends now."

Raphael knew that acting this carelessly wasn't going to help, but he had ran out of ideas. He just wanted things to go back to the way they were. Even though he would never admit it, Raphael missed how Mikey would constantly tease him, which would eventually lead to playful fighting. In a way, he was closer to Mikey than any of his other brothers. When he was stressed or angry, Raphael could always count on Mikey to get his mind off his troubles.

Raphael grabbed Mikey's arm, as he tried to flee to his room. Mikey shrieked and tried to close the door, but Raphael quickly stopped it from slamming with his foot.

"Mikey, I just wanna talk to ya," Raphael said, letting go of his brother, who backed into his room fearfully.

"J-just get away from me," Mikey stuttered, looking terrified, "I know it was you who did this to me."

"I lost control," Raphael choked, blinking away the tears unexpectedly welling in his eyes, "I'll always regret it. How many times do I have ta say I'm sorry?" Raphael sighed, suddenly feeling tired, "Remember how ya always used ta come to me when you had a nightmare? Or how you followed me everywhere, wantin' ta be just like me? Truth is, Mikey, you're my best friend. Can't cha trust me?"

For a long moment, Raphael and Mikey just stared at each other silently. Raphael thought he saw something soften in his little brother's gaze, but then he shook his head.

"No," He whispered, "I can't trust you."


	5. Chapter 5

Who are You? Wait, Who am I?

**Disclaimer: Yeah, so I'm trying to finish up this story before I start anything else, but it just seems to keep going on. I know how I want it to end, but sometimes getting there is the hardest part. Anyway, I hope I haven't lost all my readers. Read and enjoy.**

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"What do ya- Mikey, I don't...why?" Raphael stuttered, his mind numb with disbelief as his little brother stared at him coldly.

"Just go away," Mikey sighed heavily, stepping back into his room. Raphael could actually feel the last threads of their once strong bond break as the door slammed shut within inches of his beak. He felt as if he were dangling on the edge of a precipice, and now he was falling into an endless, black abyss.

Raphael knew his brothers were no doubt waiting for him to return from his final attempt to make Mikey trust him again. They would be understanding and concerned on the outside, but Raphael saw the looks they gave him when they though he wasn't looking. He didn't want to go back and be told that everything was going to turn out alright, and all he had to do was give Mikey some time. His little brother was the only one who hadn't given him false hope or fake promises. At least he now knew where they stood. He couldn't do this anymore; It wasn't fair to Mikey or himself.

Raphael felt like a heavy weight was pinning him down, and yet, he had never felt more empty as he entered the training room. He leaned against the doorway, unable to stop his mind from drifting back to that training session around a week ago...

_"Now we shall begin sparring," Master Splinter said, finally opening his eyes after two hours of meditation, "Leonardo, you pair up with Donatello, and, Raphael, you go with Michelangelo."_

_The four brothers stood up, and after bowing respectfully to their sensei, branched off to opposite sides of the training room. _

_"Come on, Raphie," Mike said cheerfully, who had ran by his older brother and was now performing a series of cartwheels. Raphael groaned, knowing that all the training in the world couldn't help prepare him for a restless, hyperactive Mikey. "Let's see if you can take on the...BATTLE NEXUS CHAMPION!" _

_"Bring it on,bro," Raphael smirked, crossing the distance between them with a single leap. He aimed a kick at Mikey, who effortlessly dodged it as he crouched down. He swept his legs in a long arc, pulling Raphael's feet from underneath him. Raphael ignored the sharp crack as his shell hit the floor; he took advantage of his position and used Mikey's trick against him as he kicked at the younger turtle's legs. Raphael couldn't help letting out a loud snort as his little brother fell on his face._

_"How do ya like that?" Raphael said, getting to his feet. He paused as he saw that Mikey was still on the floor, clutching his face. "You okay, Mike?" He stood hesitantly over his brother, who let out a muffled moan from behind his hands. Not wanting to bother Splinter, who was watching his other brothers spar, Raphael bent down and placed a hand on Mikey's shoulder. _

_"Lemme see, bro," Raphael said, feeling concern rise in him as Mikey turned away from him. He didn't think that Mikey had hit the ground that hard. What if he had broken his beak? "I'm real sorry, I didn't mean it." _

_Mikey said something indistinguishable, his face still hidden. Raphael pried his little brother's hands away, and leaned closer to his face. _

_"What was that, bro?" Raphael asked gently. _

_"I said...GOTCHA!" Mikey grinned, letting out a huge belch in Raphael's face. _

_Raphael fell backwards, waving his hands as the foul odor of Mikey's burp reached him. "God, that stinks!" He gasped, his eyes watering as he stood up. _

_"I can't believe you fell for that! You always do!" _

_Raphael felt anger well up inside him as Mikey rolled around, nearly gasping for breath from laughing too hard. _

_"Raphael! Michelangelo! Stop fooling around." Master Splinter called from across the room. Leo rolled his eyes and turned back to Splinter, as Don shook his head, smiling amusingly. _

_"But I-" Raphael stopped, knowing his sensei wouldn't listen to him. As far as everyone was concerned, he was the one that always started the fight. He tried to push back his irritation, as Mikey stood up, still snickering._

_"I'm so sorry," Mikey imitated Raphael, not quite managing to get his Brooklyn accent right, "I didn't mean to! I love you!" _

_"I never said that," Raphael snapped, lunging at his little brother, "I'll show ya how much I care!" The two brothers became a tangled mess of green, flailing limbs as they rolled around on the floor. After several moments, Raphael managed to get Mikey in a headlock. _

_"Not so tough now, huh?" He sneered as he wrapped his arm tighter around his brother's neck, causing Mikey to gasp for air. _

_"Losing brain cells, bro," Mikey choked, trying to squirm free. _

_"Raphael!" Raphael looked up and saw a displeased Splinter staring at him. "Let your brother go." Master Splinter's voice was calm and gentle enough, but Raphael could hear the faint traces of impatience underneath. Knowing it would be pointless to argue, Raphael reluctantly released his little brother. _

_"You okay, Mikey?" Leo asked, moving towards the smaller turtle, who was rubbing his throat. Raphael snorted contemptuously as he heard the concern in his oldest brother's voice. Unfortunately, Splinter, possessing the hearing only an experienced parent could have, heard him scoff. _

_"Since you obviously have much unexpressed anger, Raphael, I think 100 back flips should help you release it." Splinter said, giving Raphael a look that always succeeded in making him feel both irritated and ashamed of himself at the same time._

_"What?" Raphael said indignantly, "He started it. He always starts it." He added, grumbling under his breath._

_"Make it 200 flips," Master Splinter stated, his tone implying that this conversation was over. However, Raphael wasn't going to let it go that easily. _

_"What about him?" Raphael said roughly, pointing at Mikey, who had put on his most innocent face. "He was da one that was messin' around." Raphael was aware of the anger boiling in his veins, threatening to burn him from the inside, making him feel powerful and at the same time completely helpless in its grasp. Even as a small voice in his head told him to shut up, Raphael continued his rant, his voice growing louder, "But, no...once again, you let Mikey get away with everything like ya always do!"_

_Raphael instantly regretted what he said, knowing he had crossed the line. Leo and Don winced, and even Mikey was stunned into silence. _

_"Go to your room, Raphael," Splinter said harshly, his calm disposition finally disappearing under his agitation, "I'll take care of you later."_

_"Yes, Sensei," Raphael muttered, feeling his face grow hot as he felt his brothers' eyes drill into the back of his head. He turned around and walked by his two older brothers, not bothering to look at them. Raphael tried to push back the humiliation of being sent to his room like a child and the steadily growing anger at his little brother. _

Moron, _He thought bitterly, starting to see a red haze at the edge of his vision, _Why can't the lil' idiot just leave me alone for once? _He continued this stream of thought as he stormed around Mikey, who was now openly grinning._

_Raphael quickly glanced at his brothers resuming sparring, wondering if Splinter would notice if he gave Mikey a good smack. Not wanting to get into anymore trouble, Raphael resisted, his teeth starting to ache from clenching his jaw so hard. _

_"Have fun in time-out, Raph," Mikey laughed._

_Something in Raphael snapped. Fury seared it way through his body, making his blood boil, before festering in his stomach like a pulsing wound. Raphael didn't even remember moving; All he could see was red as he pushed his brother against the nearest wall. Mikey's head collided with the wall once...twice...three times...a loud crack filling the air with each impact. Raphael was vaguely aware of shouts as hands roughly pulled him away. _

_Raphael choked as something squeezed his throat, the lack of oxygen slowly extinguishing his rage. He tried to fight back, only to realize his arm was pinned behind him. Shouts steadily made their way through the fog in his mind._

_"Michelangelo!"_

_"Don't know...can't tell..."_

_"Wake up, Mikey!...God...the blood.."_

_Raphael blinked as his vision cleared, seeing Don and Splinter leaning over something. What had just happened? Why was he still seeing red? Why did it look like blood?_

_He could feel whatever holding him down trembling, and Raphael suddenly realized it was Leo. Wait, where was Mikey? Don shifted and Raphael caught a glimpse of the limp, motionless body lying face down. Did he...Oh no...no, no, no...The word repeated in his head like a mantra. Raphael started struggling again, not entirely sure why. _

_"No, Raphael," Leo said from behind him. Raphael was shocked to hear his brother's normally authoritative voice quiver. What had he done?_

Raphael pushed himself back into the present, his eyes unwillingly focusing on the small, reddish-brown stain on the wall. He doubted it would ever fade away. _Don't worry, bro. _Raphael thought, _I won't hurt none of ya again._ Finally coming to a decision, Raphael made his way to one of the back entrances of the lair, his mind firmly set on what he was about to do.

* * *

Meanwhile, Mikey was sitting on the ground, his shell resting against the door. He tucked his knees up, and wrapped his arms around them in a fruitless attempt to comfort himself. He gazed blankly at the various superhero posters and action figures scattered around his room. All the mementos of his childhood that had once provided comfort now seemed distant and alien to him. Mikey felt like a stranger who had just realized that he was living with the wrong family. And it was all because of him...

Mikey shook his head and stood up, not wanting to think about the one who was responsible for the sense of wrongness he felt. Despite what his brothers thought, Mikey did have faint memories of his hot-headed brother. He remembered all the times Raphael had smacked him or called him a moron. He wanted to believe Raphael cared about him, but what he recalled said otherwise.

Mikey flopped down on his bed, pushing several magazines and a pizza box out of the way. He could feel his mind struggling to piece together what had happened. Raphael and Mikey were sparring. Raphael got into trouble. Raphael lunged at Mikey. After that, he came up with nothing. _So what, _Mikey thought angrily_, I don't need him anyway._ If that was true why did he have a sudden urge to cry?

He wasn't sure how much time had passed when someone knocked on the door. "For the last time," Mikey snapped, not bothering to get up, "I don't want to talk to you."

"It's just me," Don's voice sounded muffled behind the door, "Can I come in?"

"Sure," Mikey sighed, not really in the mood to talk to anyone, but not wanting to be alone either.

Mikey didn't say anything as Don entered the room and closed the door behind him. An uncomfortable silence hung in the air as Don stood awkwardly in the doorway.

"So..." Don finally spoke up, trying unsuccessfully to act causal, "How are you doing?"

Normally, Mikey would be amused at the sight of Don fumbling for the right words, but now he just felt impatient. "Is there a reason you're here?" He asked.

"I'm guessing things didn't go well with Raph," Don replied, gazing around the room as if he found it fascinating. "Do you know where he went?"

"No," Mikey said harshly, ignoring the flinch Don gave at his sharp tone. "I don't really care where he went, or if he ever comes back."

Don sighed and sat down next to his little brother. "I know where you're coming from," he said, "I'm still angry with him too, but can't you see he's trying?"

"No, you don't," Mikey said angrily, "You haven't been nearly killed by your own brother twice now!"

"So you remember," Don sighed, "I know Raphael has his faults, but he just lost control," He placed a hand on his younger brother's shoulder, "I know it's easy to just focus on the bad things, but don't forget to give the good parts a chance too."

Mikey sighed, leaning against Don, as all the anger seemed to deflate from him. "This is all messed up," he finally said, "I want things to go back to the way they were."

"So do I, Mikey," Don replied softly, giving Mikey a brief, one-armed hug. The two of them continued to sit in silence for a few more minutes, before Mikey stood up.

"I never actually got to finish dinner," Mikey said, his rumbling stomach reminding him of the pizza in the kitchen, " Sorry, I bothered you, bro. I'll leave you alone." Then Mikey left his room, leaving a bewildered Don behind.

Several hours later, Raphael still hadn't returned. From what Mikey remembered, his older brother had always been in the habit of staying out late, so he didn't really understand why Leo and Don were so worried.

"It's already after ten," Leo said anxiously, pacing back and forth across the living room. "Where could he be? I've already tried calling him three times."

"He's probably just gone to blow off some steam," Don answered, once again being the logical, level-headed brother, "I bet he'll come back after we've all gone to bed."

Mikey just turned up the volume on the television and resumed channel surfing. Just as he finally found a rerun of _Family Guy_, Leo stood in front of him, and put on his cross-armed, narrow-eyed, stern leader pose.

"Do you know where he went, Michelangelo?" He asked.

"Why does everyone keep asking me that?" Mikey said scornfully, more than a little annoyed. "How am I supposed to know?"

"Well, did he seem upset or angry? You were the last one to talk to him."

The questions sounded innocent enough, and yet, Mikey could detect a trace of suspicion in his eldest brother's voice.

"What are you trying to say, Leo?" Mikey said, wishing that Leo would at least move aside so he could see the television screen.

"I'm just wondering if you said anything to make him run off." Leo stated, staring at Mikey in a way that was eerily similar to how Splinter would when one of them got into trouble.

"I didn't say anything to him that he didn't already know." Mikey said firmly, "Now, can you move?"

"What's the matter with you?" Leo asked, staring at his little brother incredulously, "I know remembering what happened is hard for you, but he's still your brother-"

"I know," Mikey said, just barely able to resist rolling his eyes, "I know. Deep down he loves me and cares about me. I've got it."

Leo sighed heavily, knowing Mikey wasn't listening to him. "Fine," He stated, "I'll go out and look for him."

"I'll go with you," Don spoke up, peering around the kitchen doorway. "We can search more ground that way."

Leo nodded, "You stay here in case he comes back, Michelangelo. Try not to wake Master Splinter. The last thing we need is more drama." He added under his breath.

Mikey made an noncommittal noise in the back of his voice, ignoring Leo's piercing glare as he and Don left the lair. At least he could finally do something without getting stalked or lectured. After flipping through the channels for another ten minutes, Mikey finally turned off the television, suddenly feeling gloomy without knowing why. Actually he had an idea what was bothering him, which made him even more grumpy. Why should he be worrying about Raphael? It's not like it was his problem. He didn't care. Not at all.

Mikey was determined to mope around until his brothers got home. He had the feeling that Leo was going to go into full lecture mode when he finally returned. Just thinking about the whole we- are-brothers-and-we-only-have-each-other speech gave him a migraine. For the next hour he tried to preoccupy himself with his comics and stash of junk food. It was after 11:30 when Mikey finally gave up searching for anything interesting under the couch cushions.

What was taking them so long? The only places Raphael really hung out was either Casey's apartment or some random dark alley where he beat up thugs. Mikey leaned back on the couch and closed his eyes. Just as he felt himself dozing off, Mikey heard the entrance to the lair open. There was a slight pause before he heard something shuffling and a low grunt. He sat still, figuring it was Raphael sneaking back in. Mikey expected to hear the usual muttering and curses as Raphael crept across the room after a night of brawling and drinking.

Instead another guttural moan reverberated in the air, sounding similar to a wounded animal trying to hold on the last remnants of life, aware that death is imminent and inevitable. The agony in that one sound was almost palpable, leaving a cold chill down Mikey's spine. Almost as if he were being controlled by a puppeteer, Mikey found himself slowly turning around. Raphael was standing in front of the door, swaying slightly as he tried to right himself. Even the dim lights of the lair couldn't conceal the stream of blood running down his arm.

For a moment the two turtles remained still, the only sound being Raphael's groans and the faint spattering of blood hitting the ground.

"Mikey?" Raphael whispered, that one word sounding like both a question and a plea.

Then his eyes rolled back, and with a small cry, he collapsed to the floor, not moving.


	6. Chapter 6

Who are You? Wait, Who am I?

**I'm still alive! I got a new job at the Redstone Arsenal, which probably won't mean much to most of you, but it's a prestigious place. I don't mean to brag, but we don't have much in Alabama, besides football and cotton. **

**I'm trying to close up this story, but it's not working with me. I've got other stories I want to start, but I hate it when a story is good and the author rushes the ending to get it over with. **

**And, yes, I changed my username again. I really don't know why I chose that. I'm trying to find something that fits me, but maybe I'm over thinking it.**

* * *

Time seemed to come at a standstill as Mikey simply gawked at his older brother's unmoving form. He was tempted to just run into his room and let his brothers take care of it. It's not like they would know he hadn't been there the entire time. He instantly felt a pang of guilt at the thought of leaving his brother to bleed to death. Sure, he was mad at Raphael, but that didn't mean he wanted him to die.

This was so not his day. Mikey sighed as he slowly approached Raphael, trying to recall what Don had taught them about first aid. First, Mikey needed to check his pulse. Or maybe it was breathing? He knelt down beside Raphael, placing the palm of his hand in front of his brother's mouth after gently turning him over. After making sure he was in fact breathing, Mikey turned to the jagged slash running from Raphael's shoulder to just above his elbow. A small pool of blood was already starting to gather around his arm.

Mikey jumped up, ran into the kitchen, grabbed a hand towel, and slid down next to Raphael in record time. Blood quickly soaked the white fabric as Mikey wrapped the towel tightly around Raphael's wound. Wrapping the older turtle's good arm around his neck, Mikey barely managed to haul Raphael to his feet, wondering if he had always been this heavy.

Raphael's head drooped limply against Mikey's shoulder as he half-carried and half-dragged him to the couch. In the flickering light of the television, Mikey noticed a purple, mottled bruise on the side of his head. Raphael let out a low moan as Mikey laid him on the couch, but showed no other signs of regaining consciousness. As Mikey just stared at Raphael for a moment, he couldn't help but think this was part of another hare-brained scheme his brother had concocted. It would be just like Raph to throw him in the middle of this mess, knowing that he would have to take care of him.

_You could just get Master Splinter_, Mikey reasoned to himself. Then again, it seemed unlikely that his sensei would just let him leave. And if Mikey was going to be forced to take care of Raphael, he'd rather do it alone, away from his father's unwavering gaze. He carefully peeled the towel away from Raphael's arm, wincing at the sight of fresh blood oozing out over the crusty red-brown stains covering his ashen skin. Mikey swallowed and took a deep breath, trying to quell the nervous flipping in his stomach. He always got nauseated at the sight of blood. Luckily, neither he nor his brothers weren't hurt severely that often, and in those rare cases they were, April or Splinter were usually there to assist Don.

_Okay, Mikey, you can do this._ _Let's see…I need some bandages and rubbing alcohol and Don has plenty of those. _Mikey ran to Don's lab and grabbed what he needed, pleasantly surprised by how well he was handling this. Just one step at a time. With shaky hands, he poured some of the alcohol on the large cut and rewrapped his brother's arm in a thick layer of gauze. He stepped back and looked at his handiwork, feeling satisfied for now. It would do until Don and Leo got home. Speaking of which, he could hear the steadily growing echo of voices coming from outside the lair. Right on cue, Leo and Don walked through the doorway. Mikey stepped forward before they could notice Raphael.

"Raph's here. He's hurt, but I took care of it. I'm going to bed." The words spilled out of his mouth in a confusing, tangled jumble; Mikey already in his room by the time his brothers' registered what he had said.

He collapsed on his bed, feeling as if he had aged several decades in a matter of minutes. Mikey vaguely wondered if this was how Leo felt all the time. A strong sense of loneliness seemed to envelop him, filling the void spaces inside him. He wondered if it was possible to feel so empty that eventually you just floated away. Curling into a ball, Mikey wrapped his arms around his knees, as if he could piece himself back together if he held on tight enough.

This wasn't him, but who was he? If only he could fill in all those missing memories. Until he did, Mikey knew he would never feel like the same turtle who was constantly joking and smiling. But he was different.

_Come on, Mikey, just remember. Just one thing._

He wished he could just crawl in bed with one of his brothers, whose very presence would vanquish all the monsters that lurked in a child's imagination.

_Wait, didn't I used to do that?_

Yes, he had faint recollections of feeling safe and warm as he rested his head against his brother, whose loud snores soon lured him to sleep.

_But who was it? Remember…remember…_

Mikey didn't remember falling asleep, but the next thing he was aware of was the soft, but steady knocking on his door. Mikey groaned and pressed his face deeper into the covers, trying to ignore the slightly damp pool of drool under his cheek. He kept his eyes close even as he heard the door open and someone shaking his shoulder.

"I know you're awake, Mikey" Don's voice came from directly above him, "Come on, it's already after ten."

Much to his relief, Don left the room without mentioning Raphael. _I guess that means he didn't croak, _Mikey thought_._ He really didn't feel like going to a funeral. Knowing Leo would be on his tail soon, he reluctantly got up, muscles tight from staying curled up for so long. After giving himself a minute to wake up, Mikey walked into the hallway. He followed the sound of Splinter's kettle whistling and the low murmur of voices to the kitchen.

"Good morning, Michelangelo. Did you sleep well?" Master Splinter asked, looking as alert as always while pouring his tea, unlike Mikey who probably resembled the walking dead.

"Yes, Sensei," Mikey replied, his voice still croaky from sleep. He intentionally avoided eye contact with Leo and Don as he edged behind them. Incredibly, the next few minutes were quiet as Mikey toasted some bread; the only sounds were the high-pitched clinging of Master Splinter stirring his tea and the crunching of cereal being chewed. Mikey sat down beside Don, buttering his toast as though everything was normal. He had barely finished swallowing his first bite when Leo cleared his throat. Mikey didn't have to look up to know his eldest brother was wearing a mask of disappointment.

"Are you even going to ask about Raphael?" He asked, his voice practically dripping with disapproval.

"I presumed he was okay, since Don's not building a coffin," Mikey answered, staring intently at the list of ingredients on the box of cereal in front of him. Mikey and Don started as Leo slammed his hand on the table, causing the glasses and dishes to rattle.

"How can you be so cold?" Leo said harshly, a distinct edge in his voice, his eyes smoldering like glowing ember. "Your brother could have died, and you don't even care."

"I took care of him, didn't I?" Mikey snapped, pushing back his chair and standing up. What little appetite he had vanished as quickly as it had come. "Give me a little credit."

"And we all appreciate it," Leo said evenly, standing up to meet Mikey's gaze, "but these childish little tantrums have got to stop."

Mikey snorted derisively. "That's rich coming from you," He muttered, turning his back on Leo and leaving the kitchen.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

Mikey pretended like he didn't hear Leo calling out, intent on making it back to his room where he could sort through his thoughts in peace. Once again, luck wasn't on his side as he felt himself roughly spun around and face-to-face with an irate Leo.

"Michelangelo, I said what's that supposed to mean?" Mikey felt like he had been transported to a different universe, as he and Leo never got into confrontations. Even though Leo had always been strict with Raphael, he usually cut a little more slack with his youngest brother. Normally, if Leo glared at him like that, Mikey would be pulling the sad puppy eyes.

"What do _I_ mean?" Mikey snapped, aware of Don and Splinter hovering by the doorway, "You're one to talk about having tantrums! You always act like you're in control, but you're worse than Raphael! At least he lets it out, instead of holding it inside. You know what, never mind. I'll just keep it inside and let it build until I attack Master Splinter and have to be sent away. Wait a minute, you already did that!"

A moment of silence filled the room, so heavy that Mikey could almost hear his heart beating. Leo stumbled back, as if Mikey had actually hit him, the anger in his eyes being replaced with hurt. Behind him, Don and Splinter looked stunned, but Mikey didn't give them time to say anything as he was already making his way out of the lair.

As he passed Don's make-shift infirmary, Mikey finally noticed Raphael sitting up in one of the old hospital beds, the look on his face suggesting that he had heard everything. For a fraction of a second, their eyes met and something seemed to pass between them; then Mikey was gone.

* * *

The sound of the door slamming behind Mikey echoed through the room long after he was gone. Leo was still standing exactly in the same position, though Don couldn't see his expression. Don cleared his throat awkwardly. Leo jumped as if he had just realized there was an audience.

"Oh, um…." Leo stammered, backing away slowly, looking like a deer caught in headlights, "I'm going to check on…." He gestured wildly at nowhere in particular as he moved towards the dojo. The paper screen door closing behind him made it clear that Leo didn't want to be bothered, so Don decided to check on Raphael, mostly just to try to escape the palpable tension.

While his hot-headed brother had quite a nasty bruise on his head, Don was sure that it wasn't anything serious, though Raphael would have a headache for a while. Luckily the cut on his arm wasn't too deep, but Don wanted to keep an eye on it for any sign of an infection. The hardest part would be to get Raphael to stay in bed while he recuperated from blood loss. Don already felt slightly better as he focused solely on his other brother's needs.

"How are you feeling?" Don asked professionally, taking Raphael's pulse, "Do you feel any light-headiness or nausea? Is your headache any better?"

"I'm fine," Raphael snapped, sounding more like the old him than he had in a week as he pushed Don's hand away. However, he didn't put up a fight as Don changed his dressings. "So 'bout that…" Raphael hesitated, looking uncertain, "Are ya gonna go after him?"

"No, I just think he needs some space," Don replied.

"It's weird, ya know, him acting like me," Raphael said quietly, "This is so screwed up. For a minute, I thought him helping me would fix everything."

Don stared down at his hands as he distractedly smoothed out the bed sheets. "Did you get hurt on purpose?" He finally asked having the same thought as Mikey had the previous night.

"I'm not that stupid!" Raphael said heatedly, "Geez, you think I let those punks get the jump on me? Yeah, that's what I wanted."

Don held his hands up submissively, "I was just asking. You have to admit doing something reckless and impulsive is right up your alley." He smiled slightly to show Raphael he was mostly kidding.

"So when can I get up? I feel fine." Raphael grumbled.

"Your arm doesn't hurt at all?" Don asked, raising his brow skeptically.

"No," Raphael stretched his arms above him casually; however Don's keen eyes noticed he was barely holding back a wince. "Fine, maybe a little," He muttered, giving Don what Mikey often referred to as the 'stink eye.'

"Just humor me for another hour," Don said, "I don't need to worry about you too."

"You know me," Raphael said, lying back down, "I don't like to cause trouble."

"Only when you're awake," Don joked.

"Do ya think he'll ever forgive me?" Raphael asked quietly, his relaxed demeanor turning solemn.

"I've been doing some research on amnesia," Don picked up a stack of papers easily an inch thick and placed them on Raphael's lap.

"Can ya just give me the short version?" Raphael asked, as he thumbed through the numerous articles and research papers.

"Mikey appears to have retrograde amnesia, which means he can create new memories even though he's lost access to those that occurred before the incident. Retrograde amnesia is usually temporally graded, meaning he'll more likely recover older memories over time while he'll probably never remember what happened right before he was injured."

"So, he will get better?" Raphael asked, trying not to sound too eager.

Don sighed. "Well, here's where it gets tricky. He also seems to have a psychogenic form of amnesia, which is typically associated with autobiographical memory loss. To put it simply, he basically forgot who he was."

"Yeah, but he-" Raphael started to say; only to get cut off as Don continued his scientific ramble.

"Memory gaps are common with psychogenic amnesia, which means it originates psychologically. The brain doesn't have the ability to recall certain information, usually concerning something traumatic. There is a chance that Mikey will spontaneously regain his memories, but most likely, he'll slowly start gradually remembering things about you maybe as far back as childhood-"

"But I was horrible to 'em as a kid," Raphael finally managed to blurt out, while Don hesitated to take a breath.

"True," he said, "But not always, like the time you carried him home after he hurt his ankle. Anyway, I know he cares about you. Otherwise, he wouldn't have helped you last night."

Raphael swiftly shot back up, temporarily disregarding the pain shooting down his arm, his amber eyes widening in shock. "Whoa, wait a sec, bro," he said in disbelief, "You kinda left that part out."

"Oh, right," Don said sheepishly, rubbing the back of his head, "I did forget to mention that, didn't I? What do you remember about last night?"

"I remember comin' home and seein' Mikey, but I thought I was just imagining it. Ya know I was kinda woozy from all the blood loss." Raphael shrugged with his good shoulder.

"He ran off to his room after Leo and I came home," Don said, "but your wound was disinfected and bandaged. He actually did a pretty good job."

"Huh," Raphael said seeming lost in thought as he pondered this bit of information. Don gave him a moment before asking him if he wanted something to eat.

"I'll just take some cereal, I guess."

"Okay, Fruity Peebles, it is," Don said, not quite managing to keep the mirth out of his voice as he stood up. Raphael's favorite cereal had always been a great source of amusement for his brothers, especially Mikey. Just a few weeks ago, Raphael had dumped a bowl of cereal on his youngest brother's head after he wouldn't stop doing his 'fruity tootie' dance on the table.

"Watch it, bro. I don't need attitude from you. Just get me some cereal," Raphael said gruffly, but as Don left the room, he could have sworn he saw a small smile cross his face.


End file.
